Silent Serenade
by Maya Beebop
Summary: Beetlejuice isn't acting like himself...or is he? Betrayal, devotion, and tons of other emotions conflict in this fic with a song for each chapter. AN: It's best if you listen to the song while reading.
1. My Happy Ending

A/N: "My Happy Ending" is copyright Avril Lavigne and BJ and such belongs to Tim Burton. Blah blah.

"Oh…" Lydia collapsed on her bed. "Jeez, I'm so tired! An entire day in the Neitherworld and I'm completely bushed!" She sighed and examined the ceiling.

"Yeah, and the fact that we spent most of it in the Slopping Mall has nothing to do with it," Beetlejuice returned, floating near the ceiling. "You know, we _used_ to have a lot more stamina. Ten hours on the other side was like five minutes. Guess I'm just getting' old," he finished, jokingly.

"Tell me about it. My bones are aching in the marrow! I think I sprained my ankle once, but I just don't have the energy to care!" she commented.

"But it was worth it, right? What do you think?" Lydia inquired, pulling the new clothes from a slopping mall bag labeled "The Hexpress" and "Rot Toxic". She held them up against her and grinned at him.

"Lyds, they're just as good as they were three hours ago when you tried them on and modeled them in the dressing rooms. Trust me, I've _seen_ them," he smirked.

She threw them back messily into the bags and lay back onto her pillows. "Hey, Beej?"

"What, babes?"

"…Forget it. Sorry."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He wasn't buying it. Hovering over her, he stared suspiciously into her face. She grinned and stared back. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah. You can drop the act and tell me what's bugging you," he declared, turning into an insect and dropping onto her stomach, buzzing angrily.

She snapped up and grabbed him. Flattening out the palm of her hand, she berated him. "You know that tickles."

"I know it makes you laugh. Now what's up?"

She yawned and laid back again. "Me. And I'd rather it not be. I'm really tired."

"Oh, _fine_. _Be_ like that," he said, changing to a bumblebee to buzz in her face before disappearing.

Lydia closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep.

She awoke to the chirping of birds outside her window. Starting to get up, she noticed a dull pain in her joints and rubbed her elbows.

"Need more vitamins," was all she said before going down to breakfast. Realizing both her parents were out and it was still the weekend, she thought about visiting Beetlejuice.

Lydia poured a glass of orange juice and downed it in a single gulp. She poured another glass and sat down with it, taking her time with the juice and a cold bagel.

The food felt good in her stomach, but she felt full after just half the bagel. Finishing her drink, she deposited the dishes in the washer and went back upstairs to get dressed.

A dark blue skirt adorned with black lace from the Neitherworld matched with a black teeshirt made up her ensemble. She twirled around in front of the mirror for a moment before noticing an image of the Roadhouse in the glass.

_Funny…Beej must have been there or something. But he's left the path open…I'll just surprise him!_

She stepped through the mirror and into the Neitherworld. Her ears perked up when she heard scufflings from down the hall.

Walking out of the room, she searched the hallway for signs of life. Finding one by stepping on it, she retched and scraped the bug guts off her foot with a piece of wood lying nearby.

"B.J.?" she called. "Ginger? Jaqués? Is that you?"

Suddenly, a flash of black and white raced across her field of vision from a room on one side of the hall to another room on the opposite side.

"Beej! Are you ok?" Lydia inquired, walking down to the room. She found him in the room, standing opposite a torn-up, red armchair and muttering to himself.

"Beetlejuice!"

Her word startled him and he jumped a foot in the air. Turning, he got a good look at her.

"L-Lydia? What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit you. Surprised?"

"How are you on your _feet_ after that insanity yesterday?" he asked wearily. "I just want to get off mine." His two feet detached themselves and ran around the room before coming back to under his ankles.

"I'm still a little tired, but friendship knows no boundaries. What's up for today?" Lydia asked.

"Oh, I don't know, babes. I'm just so…exhausted," he mused, walking past her and back into the hallway. She followed him back into the mirror room and tapped his shoulder.

"If you want me to leave you alone, I'll go back."

"Yeah…yeah, I think that's for the best. You should just…leave. For good."

__

Let's talk this over  
It's not like we're dead  
Was it something I did?  
Was it something you said?  
Don't leave me hanging  
In a city so dead  
Held up so high  
On such a breakable thread  
You were all the things I thought I knew  
And I thought we could be

"What do you mean?" Lydia demanded. "_Leave for good_?"

"I mean you should…stop…coming here. Go home for good."

"But…but-…"

"Look, this isn't easy, alright? And you're not making it easier."

She stood, confused, opposite Beetlejuice. The mirror was across from them, standing against the wall. She realized she had never really looked at it, but now that she eyed it, she realized it looked like a wizened version of the one in her room.

__

Funny…

__

You were everything, everything that I wanted  
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it  
All of the memories, so close to me, just fade away  
All this time you were pretending  
So much for my happy ending

"There was never anything to explain for. I'm sorry, babes, but I can't do this anymore. People are starting to talk."

"Since when did _you_ start to care what other people think about us? This is so not you, Beej!"

  
_You've got your dumb friends  
I know what they say  
They tell you I'm difficult  
But so are they  
But they don't know me  
Do they even know you?  
All the things you hide from me  
All the shit that you do  
You were all the things I thought I knew  
And I thought we could be_

"I don't. But they started to make sense. This…isn't healthy for you. Visiting the Neitherworld and all."

"What?"

"I talked to some people. They say it's affecting you…"

"Nothing's affecting me!"

"_Look_ at yourself, Lyds!" he spat, pointing at the mirror.

Lydia glanced into it and yes, she made a note of her slowly diminishing health. Her skin had gotten very, very pale, and bags under her eyes along with reddened skin around her nose and her weakening strength betrayed her sickness.

"So what? I'm going through a bad streak! Is that what all this is about?"

"Lydia, _stop lying to yourself_! I should have forced this to stop _months_ ago! And _no_, this is not the only reason why!"

"Well, go on!" she yelled, stomping the floor with her foot and curling her palms into fists.

"It's not like we're joined at the hip! You just can't get the fact that _you're not dead_. You _will_ be, and you're still stuck in some stupid school-kid fantasy that you _want_ to be. Grow _up_!" he snarled, crossing his arms.

Lydia stood, stricken with anger and hurt. She couldn't speak, and finally choked out her words.

"So you're saying…I couldn't have _changed_? Do you really think I still want that?"

"Why else would you want to hang around with _me_? You need to get some live friends, Lydia."

She couldn't stop the tears. Sniffling, she tried to hide them as long as she could, but she didn't realize he didn't care if he saw her crying or not.

"Stop calling me. Stop trying to come to the Neitherworld. Go home and forget about everything; it'll make you life easier."

He advanced, and she tried to push him away. But even though her hands didn't connect with his chest this time, his hands pushed her towards the mirror. Stumbling and tripping on her skirt, Lydia realized she was falling through the glass surface.

Desperately trying to grasp the edges, she felt her two fingers catch the wooden frame just in time. She looked up at his face and widened her eyes at the image of him cruelly peeling her digits from the edge and pushing her back and through the mirror.

And she was through, thrown back onto her bed.

"No…" Lydia cried. "That's…it _can't_ be…_it's not true!_"

She ran at her mirror with her fists in front, slamming into the fragile glass. It shattered, cutting her knuckles and falling in a shimmering shower around her. The silvery shards made a pool at her feet and were dampened with her tears.

"That's not true! You wouldn't _care_! You wouldn't stop until it was too late! Damn it, Beetlejuice!"  
  
_It's nice to know that you were there  
Thanks for acting like you cared  
And making me feel like I was the only one  
It's nice to know we had it all  
Thanks for watching as I fall  
And letting me know we were done_

"I can't just sit here while you pretend you're doing the right thing! Beetlejuice!" She bent down to pick up a few pieces of the mirror, searching them for a glimmer of his figure. Nothing. They only reflected her tear-streaked face and bleeding hands.

__

He was everything, everything that I wanted  
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it  
All of the memories, so close to me, just fade away  
All this time you were pretending  
So much for my happy ending

"And you know I don't do well with people on this side! I can't just _make_ new friends…not _now_! Not…without knowing…you're…_there_…"

"Is it jealousy? Is it insecurity? GOD DAMN IT, BEETLEJUICE! Come back! This is so…much…_shit_!"

She collapsed to the ground and sat, hugging her knees, crying softly. "It's not _true_."

_  
  
You were everything, everything that I wanted  
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it  
All of the memories, so close to me, just fade away  
All this time you were pretending  
So much for my happy ending_


	2. Mad World

A/N: "Mad World" is copyright Gary Jules and BJ and such belongs to Tim Burton. Blah blah. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

The rock smashed against the mirror, shattering the angry reflection with a spider-web of cracks. But the glass held in the frame and showed a fractured image of the rage in the room.

"_Goddamnit! Why?_"

Beetlejuice's fury burned in a tangible flame around his person. He reeled on the shadows and spat into them.

"Are you happy now? Are you gonna throw a goddamned _party_, now that you're flipping for joy?" he snarled.

A chuckle surfaced from the darkness. "You're entirely too sentimental about this, Beetlejuice. It's all for the best; you'll see," a sultry masculine voice returned.

"Best? _Best_? What the hell is my afterlife worth without her? I swear to god, if I still could, I'd kill myself! Right after _you_!"

"Stop your sniveling. She'll come soon enough. Until then, you are not to search her out."

"But why?" he demanded. "What's it worth to you? What the hell do you have against me?"

"Not you."

"Then who, you bastard?"

A pause. "_Her_."

Beetlejuice's eyes widened. "What could you have against _Lydia_? Who the hell _are_ you?"

A shuffle in the dark. Suddenly a figure appeared from the blackness and Beetlejuice nearly fainted.

__

It was the exact likeness of Beetlejuice himself, except younger, thinner and more cut!

The ragged blonde hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and the striped suit fit properly, flattering his figure and making him look taller. His hands sat comfortably in his pant pockets.

"Who…who…?" Beetlejuice attempted.

"Am I?" the man finished. "Just who I look like. I'm _you_. Or, more like your other side. Split personalities can be so different, don't you agree?"

Here he laughed. "Schizophrenia is a funny thing. Either you imagine people who don't exist, or you switch between personas. I can't imagine what kind of people you'd imagine, but I'd imagine they'd be quite horrific.

"Sort of like Lydia."

This phrase jarred something in Beetlejuice's head. He unleashed his fury on his other self, launching himself into the man. But he didn't connect. Instead, he went right through and hit the wall on the other side.

"You can't touch me, Beetlejuice. I'm not real…_yet._"

"Yet? What do you mean, _yet_?"

"I mean that as soon as your mind is finished with the last remaining imaginary friend of yours, I can harness that power to materialize myself."

"Imaginary…friend?"

__

"Why, yes. You remember my mentioning those people you might dream up? Well…heh…"

"What do you mean?!"

"Put two and two together, you stupid ghost! Why couldn't you feel anything in that world when you began to doubt? Why were you able to take action against your own mind when you knew the _truth_?"

"You mean…" Beetlejuice tried. "She's…she's not…_real_?"

"No."

__

All around me are familiar faces  
Worn out places, worn out faces  
Bright and early for their daily races  
Going nowhere, going nowhere  
And their tears are filling up their glasses  
No expression, no expression  
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow  
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

He fell to the floor on his knees. "She….doesn't…exist?"  
"She exists. Just not for you. You see, the dead were never meant to see the living, and vice-versa. It destroys the equilibrium held between the two worlds. If people knew there was life after death, the Neitherworld would be completely overpopulated from people who didn't care to preserve life.

"Lydia and you should never have met. Because you did, and because you _flaunt_ it, several people suspect existence after becoming deceased. But this isn't the reason why I had you push her away."

"Why then, you twisted bastard?"

"Because she's _tamed_ you, Beetlejuice," the other replied, taking BJ's face in his hands.

"Being around her lets your guard down. You don't focus on yourself as much as you should, even though the observer would testify differently. You should remember what happened _last time_."

"Last time?"

__

And I find it kind of funny  
I find it kind of sad  
The dreams in which I'm dying  
Are the best I've ever had  
I find it hard to tell you  
'Cause I find it hard to take  
When people run in circles  
It's a very, very  
Mad World

The other BJ sighed and held out his palm. A small cloud of vapor appeared over his hand, and it contorted into a shape that floated softly over his skin. The translucent miniature figure of a young woman was defined, her long pale hair swaying in a nonexistent breeze. She looked like she was asleep; her eyes closed and a soft smile played upon her lips.

"Do you remember now, Beetlejuice? Do you remember what happened…when you forgot your place? Is it all coming back to you in a horrific carousel of tainted, macabre memories?"

__

Children waiting for the day they feel good  
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday  
Made to feel the way that every child should  
Sit and listen, sit and listen  
Went to school and I was very nervous  
No one knew me, no one knew me  
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson  
Look right through me, look right through me

Suddenly something clicked in BJ's head. His face twisted into a mass of frightened, overwhelmed emotion and he tried to curl into himself to get the sporadic images out of his mind.

"Please! Control…! Don't…control…!"

Flaming clouds cover the sky as red lightning crackles overhead. A black tornado rises, its vortex spawning from the heart of a black-cloaked figure. Screams and cries from the shadows screech as a white shadow passes over them.

"No! Can't…by and…this!"

"No!"

"You see now? You remember?" the other Beetlejuice commented, touching his counterpart's head and instantly making the memories disappear.

The original BJ sat up. "I…remember. But what does it have to do with Lydia?"

"She could be another lock if you let it all continue. We can't let that happen, Beetlejuice. We can't let the damned escape again, can we?"

"N-no…" he managed.

"Which means we can't let another woman happen."

"R-r-right."

__

And I find it kinda funny  
I find it kinda sad  
The dreams in which I'm dying  
Are the best I've ever had  
I find it hard to tell you  
I find it hard to take  
When people run in circles  
It's a very, very mad world ... world  
Enlarge your world  
Mad world


	3. Vindicated

A/N: "Vindicated" is copyright Dashboard Confessional and BJ and such belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

"Beetlejuice? …Can you hear me?" she asks of the darkness. The light isn't off, it's broken. Broken by a figurine she threw wildly through the room an hour ago in her rage.

The shattered pieces lie on the carpet; the porcelain mixing with the glass of the light fixture and the silvery shards of mirror, dyed in places with the red of her blood.

__

Hope dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption  
Winding in and winding out  
The shine of it has caught my eye…

"Is it wrong? Is it wrong to miss you…so much? Why can't I call you or talk to you? What…went…wrong?" she wants to know. She's cried so much, there's nothing wet left in her. Now she's dry and can't go on.

The tears have all dried from the carpet. The wet spots are gone and nothing's left but darkened flooring.

_And roped me in  
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing  
I am captivated, I am_…

"Son of a _bitch_!" she swears, punching the wood backing behind what used to be the mirror. Another dent added to the last hour's worth of attacks. She hasn't gotten up from where she fell.

"It's not my fault! Whatever you think is wrong, it isn't because of me! I haven't done anything to you! If I have, then I'm sorry, you selfish son of a bitch! I'm _sorry_!" she screams, repeatedly punching the mirror.

"If you were a man, you'd tell me why you're doing this! Is it a test? Is it some sick, twisted form of humor? God damn it, come out and tell me!"

_Vindicated  
I am selfish  
I am wrong  
I am right  
I swear I'm right  
I swear I knew it all along  
And I am flawed  
But I am cleaning up so well  
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself…_

She collapses again, her fervor ebbed, on the floor. She tries in vain to piece together the mirror on the floor, thinking in her haze that maybe, just maybe, if she can make it whole again, she could go through and see him.

Go through and find what she thought was him.

_So clear  
Like the diamond in your ring  
Cut to mirror your intention  
Oversized and overwhelmed  
The shine of which has caught my eye  
And rendered me  
So isolated, so motivated  
I am certain now that I am_…

The pieces slowly go together, one by one, starting to resemble what they once were. She's encouraged by the reflection of her room starting to emerge from what once were fractured visions of her distorted reality.

As she goes along, she starts disliking the spider-web of cracks in between each pair of pieces that have been pushed together. When she's finally finished, she can't even look at it for the hatred of the thin, almost nonexistent lines breaking up the perfect picture.

In a wave of new emotions and new tears, she sweeps the mirror away into its broken pieces with a pass of her hand as she cries again.

_Vindicated  
I am selfish  
I am wrong  
I am right  
I swear I'm right  
I swear I knew it all along  
And I am flawed  
But I am cleaning up so well  
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself…_

With a wince, she realizes she cut her palm on a jagged piece of mirror. As she lifts her hand to her eyes, a strange sort of light begins playing in her pupils, and she starts to smile in a relieved way.

_  
  
So turn  
Up the corners of your lips  
Part them and feel my finger tips  
Trace the moment, fall forever_

She watches the blood trickle down over her hand and wrist and arm and sighs with a contented breath. Her epiphany won't go ignored.

She picks up a large piece of glass and examines all its sides. She selects the sharpest and touches it lightly to her exposed wrist.

She sucks in a breath and cries a single tear. It traces its way along her cheek and dies on her lips, which speak a single phrase.

"If you won't come to me…then I'll come to you."

__

Defense is paper thin  
Just one touch and I'd be in  
Too deep now to ever swim against the current  
So let me slip away  
So let me slip against the current  
So let me slip away…

She makes a quick cut and gasps. It burned with the fury of a thousand suns! She had never imagined it would pain so much!

Her eyes screw up and she tries to keep her breath. As the crimson bubble turns into a small stream of blood flowing down her arm, she slumps against her table and almost falls to the floor.

Her vision swims with color, abounding with hues of purple and blue and black and green, all swirling together in a brilliant kaleidoscope that tints her bedroom with night colors. The crescent moon shining in through her window spills its light over her, and she focuses on it, weeping at its beauty.

_Vindicated  
I am selfish  
I am wrong  
I am right  
I swear I'm right  
I swear I knew it all along  
And I am flawed  
But I am cleaning up so well  
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself…_

As her breath slows, she tries to keep her gaze on the moon, not wanting to see the earthly things around her as she slips away. But inevitably, her head nods and her eyes fall to the bloodstained piece of glass in her hand. She wants to throw it away in disgust, but she finds she hasn't the strength.

Finally, her eyes weakening and her heart slowing, she looks in a daze to the shattered mirror that lay around her. She slowly collapses to the floor and lays on a few pieces of glass.

Her breath mists them over and over again…

Then the mist fades away.

_  
  
My hope  
dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption..._


	4. Cry Little Sister

__

A last fire will rise behind those eyes  
Black house will rock, blind boys don't lie  
Immortal fear, that voice so clear  
Through broken walls, that scream I hear…

A harsh wind blew up, and Beetlejuice, who was sitting on his roof, clutched at his lapels.

"What's that?" he asked of the gathering dark. Winds that cold and fast rarely ever blew in the Neitherworld. Only when something truly earth shattering was going on in the Real World did something so out of the ordinary happen in their Limbo.

He stood and was instantly being held by the neck. Someone was behind him, gripping his throat with an inhuman hold that could have crushed his windpipe if he weren't already dead.

"It's _Lydia_, isn't it? Isn't it, you bastard? Something's happening to her! Let me go!" Beetlejuice demanded of his other self. The manic laugh sounded in his ear.

"Oh, Beetlejuice. Don't be so foolish. I _told_ you she'd come sooner or later. I _told_ you to wait. But I never said I'd just let you go see her when it happened. Now, you're just going to have to wait a little longer. This is all for the best, remember. You _do_ remember, don't you?"

The ghost-like image of the miniature woman floating over his alter-ego's hand shot through Beetlejuice's head. He sighed, defeated, and sat back down.

"Good little ghost. But just so you're not tempted…"

The man conjured up energy bonds that locked themselves around BJ's wrists and shackled him to the roof. When this happened, the ghost tried to release himself with furious yanks at the chains, but they didn't release.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded over the roar of the wind. From the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of something pale and small drifting from the sky, down to the ground, completely unaffected by the tornado-like wind that whipped and lashed around the Roadhouse.

_Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall  
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die  
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear  
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill…_

He focused on it, trying to keep it in his sight amongst the small debris hitting him. Somehow he felt it was important to see, to know. But his other self noticed it and smirked.

"So you see? I'm impressed; you shouldn't be able to see the newly dead. But hell, suicides are a lot easier to notice than the others. It's no great feat, really."

"Suicide?"

"Yes…the poor thing. Couldn't stand life…without her _best friend_," he returned, tauntingly.

"You mean…that's…_Lydia_?! You're…you're _lying_! Let me go! She's still alive, you…you…let me _go!_" He said the last word with an unholy yank at the chain, but it remained as strong as ever, even glowing a bit with a surge of energy as he pulled.

"Oh, Beetlejuice. I really do hate seeing you like this. Don't worry; soon she'll be out of your mind and safely put away. We'll never have to worry about the Lock; we'll never have to deal with another Opening. Just relax and wait. Be _patient_."

"Patient? _Patient_? While you do and…do whatever you're gonna do to Lydia? To Hell with that!"

"Precisely. To Hell with her. Or at least, to it's equal. She's going to go where Rachel should have gone. Last time."

"Rachel?"

"So soon to forget?" He brought the transparent girl to his palm again, and Beetlejuice fought back tears that he couldn't remember why he was crying.

Closing his hand over the figure, the man watched the little wisps of misty energy dissipate into the air before turning his back.

"I'll return. When my mission is done, you'll be released."

__

Blue masquerade, strangers look on  
When will they learn this loneliness?  
Temptation heat beats like a drum  
Deep in your veins, I will not lie…

So softly did the ghost fall to earth, it lay down in a sleeping position on the brown leaf-strewn park ground. Its chest still rose and fell in the rhythmic habit of the living, but slowly the movement slowed and the eyes fluttered.

The spirit stood gracefully, its hair flowing and ebbing just below its shoulders. It floated a few inches off the ground; it's white dress whirling in an invisible breeze.

Slowly, some color came to it, but no substance. Its hair darkened to black, and its skin lightened to the palest of peach. The eyes sparkled with an unearthly light as it took in its surroundings with astound.

_I know this place_… it thought. _So familiar…but so new…_

Suddenly, it felt a presence. Someone was nearby. Someone it knew, but was still a stranger. It looked for the person and found it leaning against a dead tree not five yards away.

"Hello, Lydia."

The voice was so _familiar_!

__

Little sister - Thou shall not fall  
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die  
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear  
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill

"Lydia?" the ghost asked.

"Yes. That's your name. Now come with me." The person beckoned with their hand, and she took it. He led the way through the park. The ghost kept her eyes on his face, trying to place him.

Suddenly they were in the air, flying towards a twisted city. She let her gaze drift and look over the area, taking it in and feeling a sense of familiarity, like she _belonged_ here more than she already did. But she couldn't be sure how.

They stopped at a huge, black gateway. Its whirling portal sucked slightly at the very air around them, and the spirit looked at the man who had led her here.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's the gateway to Purgatory. This is your afterlife."

"Purgatory?"

"There's nothing there. Nothing except your memories."

"But…I don't have any memories…"

"Right. So there's nothing but emptiness for you."

She was silent. "This is death?"

A pause. "Yes."

She shifted her gaze for a final look at the dead world around her, with its hues of black and white and brown and gray, and even though she wished she could stay there simply for its stimulation, she knew what she had to do.

This _was_ death, after all, wasn't it? And she had to be punished for her sins in life. There must be some, right? Purgatory was for sinners who had to be purified.

So with a last breath – the final one of her living habits – she turned and stepped into the blackness.

50 Years Later

_Are you still mourning, Beetlejuice?_

Still lamenting your loss?

It's been half a century.

The voice floated around in Beetlejuice's head, the same as it always did whenever he thought of _her_. That mortal girl he had known so long ago. Something stopped his memories though, something that made him lose all record of her from a point in time and on.

__

My Shangri-Las  
I can't forget  
Why you were mine  
I need you now

He shook his head. It didn't matter now; he was back in Juno's office and pushing papers. His days as a freelance bio-exorcist were long since over; it didn't pay _nearly_ as well as Juno's filing and this new job took up a lot of time. He hated not having anything to do. It made him remember.

BJ eyed the envelope on the desk with his name on it and thought of the check inside. He thought of how it would help him revamp the Roadhouse, how it was the first step to the best Roach Hotel in the Neitherworld.

_First thing I'm gonna buy_, he thought as he shuffled papers, _is a goddamned broom. I really have to sweep up all that broken glass in that one room and throw out that old oval frame._

He shook off his thoughts and finished up. Grabbing the envelope, he checked out at the receptionist's desk (flirting with the red headed prom beauty working at it), and left.

He stopped at the bank on the way home and cashed the check, using some of it to buy a broom on the way home and left the rest in his savings account.

Beetlejuice let himself in and took a big whiff of the house. It smelled like it always did; dirty, musty, and old. Just how he always loved it.

Unwrapping the broom, Beetlejuice went right to the room with all the glass in it and began to sweep contentedly. He didn't hear a scuffling noise in his hallway until something knocked against the open door.

He turned and was promptly speechless. In his doorway was the battered, beat-up, cut and bruised form of the black-haired girl from his memories!

She breathed heavily, staring at him with desperate eyes, then fell to the floor.

__

Cry, little sister - Thou shall not fall  
Come to your brother - Thou shall not die  
Unchain me, sister - Thou shall not fear  
Love is with your brother - Thou shall not kill


	5. My Immortal

A/N: "My Immortal" is copyright Evanescence. BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

I'm so tired of being here.  
Suppressed by all my childhood fears.  
And if you have to leave,  
I wish that you would just leave.  
Cause your presence still lingers here,  
and it won't leave me alone.  
These wounds won't seem to heal,  
this pain is just too real,  
there's just too much that time cannot erase…

He stood for a moment; not able to believe his dreams could exist in his world. Was this girl…real? Was there actually some poor girl lying in his doorway, her black hair sprayed out over the dirty floor and her pale face laying against the dusty floorboards, unconscious and weak?

Something in him screamed to be let out. It told him to ignore her, to let the feeling of familiarity pass. She was just some lost Neitherworldian; some poor lost soul that if left alone would wander out again and leave the Roadhouse.

Beetlejuice shook his head and dropped the broom. He walked over and prodded the ghost with his toe to see if she was awake. When she didn't respond, he looked around to see if anyone was with her. Nothing.

He bent down and picker her up, surprised at her lightness. Why, she was just a spirit! Not a real ghost at all, with any kind of substance. It was a stroke of luck that he could even touch her, however lightly.

_Poor soul_, he thought. _Only Purgatory takes spirits. This kid's doomed for a long time._

__

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears.  
I held your hand through all of these years.  
But you still have...  
All of me…

He shook his head and carried her to a spare room. He lay her down on the rusty bed and lumpy mattress and turned away, stopping at the door to check her one last time. He'd have to call the authorities; Purgatory spirits weren't allowed in the Neitherworld. They had to be delivered to their proper afterlife.

He had barely taken half a step when he heard a sound. Beetlejuice quickly turned back and looked to the bed. She had coughed! So she wasn't completely dead to the world…

He stepped back into the room and edged a bit closer to the bed. From the very air around him, he heard a soft, sweet voice murmuring.

_Remember…I have to remember…but remember what? Why does it matter any more? No more…only black…and white? Why those colors? Why…_

He shook his head. Was it his voice he heard? It couldn't have been his; the voice that spoke to him only late at night in a smooth masculine voice that urged him to fall asleep and forget. This voice was clear and shimmered like water in a pond. It almost wasn't there at all.

_Is it _hers_? Can spirits speak?_ He asked himself. He drifted closer, moving inch by inch towards the bed. He watched her eyebrows come together as if she were in great pain...

_Well think about it! She's covered in cuts and bruises! No _duh _she's in pain!_ Beetlejuice berated his thoughts.

__

You used to captivate me by your resonating mind,  
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind.  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice has chased away all the sanity in me.  
These wounds won't seem to heal,  
this pain is just too real,  
there's just too much that time cannot erase…

"Hello?" he ventured.

Slowly, her eyes opened. The irises and pupils were the same shade of gray, looking mistily at the ceiling. He leaned over, trying to see if she could focus on him. He waved a hand over her face. "Are you awake?"

She didn't move her lips but to slightly open them. He thought he felt a cool draft of air over his open palm; probably her breath.

_Where am I?_ She thought into the air. Her voice sounded like wind chimes sounding in the air, but Beetlejuice heard it and understood it.

"Um, you're in the my Roadhouse. The Neitherworld," he returned, unsure.

_What is that?_

"Don't you remember? You must have passed through here when you…_died_."

_I can't remember anything. Except…black. And a little bit of white. One after the other for some time…then just black. Why do I remember only this?_

"It might have been the last thing you saw when you died."

_No. Before the black, but after the red liquid. After the pain. Why?_

"I don't know. I hate to do this, but I have to call someone to come take you to the Gateway. You're just a spirit; you have to go…there."

_Where?_

He paused, almost afraid to say it. "Purgatory."

_But I…have been there. I am no longer there. Why not?_

"You've…already _been_ there? But…you're saying…all these wounds are from…_you got out_?"

_Got out?_

"You escaped from Purgatory? NO one gets out of Purgatory! How in Hell did you do it? Both meanings intended!"

_I escaped. I fought for forever and eternity. But I…got…out._

"How?"

_I…remembered something. My only memory. And now, all I have of it is this black and white. What of the black and white? What here is black and white?_

Beetlejuice thought hard. What in the Neitherworld was she talking about? Black and white…jeez, the only thing he could think of was…a Neitherworldian moonset, or Saturn at night, or that ugly old suit he threw out _decades_ ago. But that was ages past, and she was so young. Surely she couldn't have known him for that suit.

"There's not much here that's just black and white. You mentioned red?" he asked.

_No, the black and white had no red. But…what is this color I see? Grass…jade…oh, what is this color?_

"Green?"

_Yes! Green! Some of this green. Two circles of green, around black that glimmers like ink._

Now she was getting poetical. Beetlejuice shook his head. He _had_ to call; they'd come barging in and charge him with harboring a spirit if he didn't, and he'd get it a hundred times over if she really did escape from Purgatory! He tore himself from her side and went to the door.

"I'll be back in a minute to get you cleaned up for the trip back. If I were you, I wouldn't admit I escaped. It wouldn't go over well, and they might put you somewhere a lot worse," he offered, shuddering at the thought of dark alternatives to Purgatory.

Beetlejuice left the room, going to the kitchen to pick up the receiver of his phone and dial the main office. After informing them of the rouge spirit, he gave his address and hung up.

He grabbed a moist cloth from the sink, one that hadn't been entirely eaten away by bacteria, and proceeded back to the spare room where she rested.

He drew up a chair and tried to wipe off some of the silver-like blood that lay congealed all over her forehead and cheeks and arms. If he didn't rub as softly as he was able to, his hand would drift through her being and hit the shaggy pillow beneath. It required patience; more patience than he could bear for too long.

Finally, left with nothing more that the faintest lines of a cut on her upper left cheek, a slight bruise on her forehead, and infinite small gashes and scratches on her arms that just couldn't be hidden, he placed the cloth on the floor and sighed. She now at least just looked almost like a mortal recently dead.

"So…what's your name?" he asked, hoping she was sleeping. The phrase got out before he could stop it. Why did he want to know her name? She was going away forever. He'd never really get to know her. He didn't need the guilt that was welling up inside him. Not now; not when he was _so close_ to forgetting her image.

She hesitated, then slightly opened her closed eyes.

_I can't remember._

"Oh. Well…it happens to the best of us."

_No. No it doesn't. You do not forget your name. What is it, so that I may at least have a memory of the kind soul that helped me when I go back into the nothingness?_

He said the taboo with an air of a man who was just so tired, he could himself slip into nothingness easily. He knew he shouldn't tell her; he'd get reamed out later; but she was just so weak, and so pitiful…

"Beetlejuice."

__

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears.  
I held your hand through all of these years.  
But you still have...  
All of me…

Suddenly her eyes snapped wide open. She tried to rise from the bed and attempted to turn her head, her entire face in an expression of pure emotion.

Before Beetlejuice could react to her spasm, a team of the Neitherworld Police barged into the room and clapped the spirit's wrists in pink energy bonds. They secured her ankles as well and had her halfway out of the room before he could speak.

But she beat him to it. Her mouth moved this time to the words and spoke in a voice he had long since forgotten.

__

I tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone.  
But though you're still with me,  
I've been alone all along…

"_Beetlejuice!_" she screamed, struggling to reach him in the iron grip of the swat team. But he couldn't move.

"_Beetlejuice!_" She writhed and twisted in their hands as they tried to get her out of the house. But they were already gone from the room, leaving the ghost standing there, trying to understand.

He felt a twinge of feeling in his gut as he heard her final screams before they got her out of earshot.

_Beetlejuice…_

  
_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears,  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears.  
I held your hand through all of these years.  
But you still have...  
All of me…_


	6. Drive

A/N: "Drive" is copyright Incubus. BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

Suddenly he was soaring through the air and ripping through dimensions, his head swimming in dizziness. He felt his body contorted and righted as he spun through realities, finally ending in a blaze as he fell to earth again.

He lay on the ground and sat up slowly, rubbing his head. Where the hell…?

__

Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear

And I can't help but ask myself how much

I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer…

It's driven me before, it seems to have a vague

Haunting mass appeal…

Lately I'm beginning to find that

I should be the one behind the wheel…

He was in a dilapidated room, one on the verge of collapse. The floorboards were almost eaten through and he hovered to prevent himself from accidentally falling through. What was left of a moth-eaten rug was gray and brown in the center of the room and a bed with a broken canopy and ripped-up drapes.

Beetlejuice looked around, trying to make sense of it. Why was he suddenly in some room? The taboo couldn't have pulled him here, could it? But who called it? Who knew him well enough to actually _want_ his company? He hadn't been a bio-exorcist for a _long_ time. His advertisements were rare and far apart, if any still existed in print.

He examined the furniture more closely. Here was a dresser, gone to the termites that had nested within and had all died out. Over here was the bed, its mattress now nothing but a mat of springs with pieces of cloth still doggedly clinging to it. The drapes over the window were half torn down and didn't keep out the chilling draft that leaked in from the cold night outside through the broken glass.

He dared to touch down to the ground and heard a crunching noise. He glanced down and saw broken glass and porcelain all around him, and he hurriedly hovered again.

All the while something inside him was screaming to be let out before it was too late. But what was too late? When did any event going on right then turn into "too late"?

__

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there.

With open arms and open eyes,

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,

I'll be there…

He tried to ignore the voice and went on. He pushed open the barely hinged door and went out into a deserted hallway. The banister blocking the dangerous single-story drop was missing bars and was hanging from just two poles, ready to break in half and send tumbling down any careless fool that used it to brace itself.

Something triggered in his memory and he tried to put the thoughts together: this present reality and the nagging in his mind that this wasn't new, it was merely _changed_. But changed from what?

Turning to the right, Beetlejuice started down the hall in a daze. He was so caught up in his rising dizziness that he barely noticed a flight of stairs leading up. When he shook his head to clear his vision, something clicked in his mind and his face completely loosened in dreaded despair.

__

Oh God no…let it not be this place…let it be anywhere_ but here…_

But as he floated up the stairs, he was flooded with memories of this door, of this attic space. A broken display of a miniature town sat in the middle of the floor, covered in decades' worth of dust. A few of the little houses had come unglued and lay scattered on the floor with some toy cars and trucks. He reached down and picked up a white three-storied house and started to cry.

So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive,

Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?

It's driven me before, it seems to be the way

That everyone else get around…

Lately, I'm beginning to find that when

I drive myself, my light is found…

She must have moved away since then…since so long ago. Had it really been fifty years? She could be someone's grandmother by now! And maybe that meant…but no, when she passed on, she wouldn't remember him.

Come to think of it…did he even remember _her_? He tried to picture her figure, what her body looked like.

__

I remember raven hair…and gorgeous eyes…oh and that red and black poncho! It always made her looked smaller than she was… He actually laughed at this, his breath stirring some of the dust on the miniature house.

Beetlejuice sighed and drifted into his precious memories, wanting to stop before he made himself cry but not really resisting. He dreamt of countless adventures in the living world and the Neitherworld…

__

The NEITHERWORLD!

__

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,

With open arms and open eyes,

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,

I'll be there…

His eyes shot open and he almost whimpered. That _girl_! There was no way…there _couldn't_ be a way…

He thought hard of the Roadhouse, of the girl's looks. But his mind was locked. He couldn't remember what she looked like, or if there even _had_ been a girl. Was it just his imagination, making him think that maybe, just maybe he saw her?

He clawed at his temples, trying to bring back his memory. What was keeping him from remembering? What was wrong with him? And why was that voice softly and steadily telling him to ignore it and go home?

He mentally fought the voice.

__

No! He said to himself. _This seems too important to ignore!_

Ah, but that's what you think. Trust yourself, Beetlejuice. This is nothing but tainted ground. Go home and resume your house cleaning.

Tainted ground?

Land haunted by a malevolent and insignificant spirit. So unlike you in your materialism. Just go home…

A spirit? A spirit…he was _so close_! So very close to remembering…

Suddenly, his head exploded in pain. He couldn't recall another time when it hurt so much, when it felt like his brain was splitting in two.

__

No…it happened before. Before your neutral period…fifty years…

Suddenly the pain stopped and all he felt was an inward longing, a desire for something that was missing in him. And before he could react, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

__

Would you choose water over wine?

Hold the wheel and drive…

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,

With open arms and open eyes,

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there,

I'll be there…


	7. Calling All Angels

A/N: "Calling All Angels" is copyright Train. BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

****

I need a sign to let me know you're here.  
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere.  
I need to know that things are gonna look up,  
Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup.  
When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head,  
When you can feel the world shake from the words that I said…

"Beetlejuice, you've forced me to do something I honestly didn't want to do."

The voice broke something in him and he could instantly remember everything. Lydia, the fight, the broken mirror, a translucent figure floating over a hand…and _dear God! That girl in the Roadhouse! She was…_

"Lydia. That's right," his other self clarified with a disgusted voice. He continued with no change in the timbre of his voice, his entire attitude nothing but contempt for the subject.

"That bitch actually clawed her way out of Purgatory. Fought her way through guards and dimensions and that damnable Cerberus. She tore herself a hole through the gateway and bled on the very doorstep of Hell."

Beetlejuice sunk to his knees on the floor, the dust from the attic floorboards collecting on his black pants. How he wished he was wearing the striped suit his counterpart was wearing now, that he hadn't have thrown it out.

"You…you put her there? In Purgatory?"

**__**

And I'm calling all angels…  
And I'm calling all you angels…

And I won't give up if you don't give up,  
I won't give up if you don't give up,  
I won't give up if you don't give up,  
I won't give up if you don't give up…

"Yes, I did. I did it to eradicate her from your memories and you from hers. I made you reject her, made her want to and commit suicide so she'd die with no recollection of her life. I personally led her into the deepest circle of Hell and left her there, and fifty years later the _bitch_ actually does the impossible!"

He seemed to be berating himself more than explaining things to Beetlejuice. He flung his fist out at the wall and actually punched a hole through it, collapsing a few timbers in the paneling.

He withdrew his hand and grasped the knuckles, which were bleeding slightly. Collecting himself, he sighed. "But all's well now. Thankfully your indifference caused you to call the NWPD and had them come and collect her. She's safely back in Purgatory and I just need to take you home again and go back into you, blocking out your memories again. Let's go." He reached down and awaited Beetlejuice's hand.

There was a short pause. Beetlejuice's breathing became erratic and he looked up at himself with enraged, piercing green eyes.

"You…_put Lydia…in Purgatory!_"

"Yes, I did. Now stop this. You didn't make this much fuss when Rachel was gone."

**__**

I need a sign to let me know you're here,  
Cause my tv set just keeps it all from being clear.  
I want a reason for the way things have to be,  
I need a hand to help build up some kind of hope inside of me.

And I'm calling all angels…  
And I'm calling all you angels…

"Rachel…"

"Oh, so even _without_ me in you, muffling your memories, you don't remember her? Foolish little ghost, she was. But she must have _loved_ playing the hero. I can still hear her screams…even if _you_ can't." He said this with a manic little smirk, looking out the window at the slowly lightening sky. It would be dawn soon.

Sounds floated through Beetlejuice's head, sounds that were only echoes of past events. His mind recalled a scene finally that chilled him to the bone.

**__**

When children have to play inside so they don't disappear,  
While private eyes solve marriage lies cause we don't talk for years,  
And football teams are kissing queens and losing sight of having dreams,  
In a world where all we want is only what we want until it's ours…

"Please! Control it! Don't…lose…control…!" a white-haired young woman yells from her perch on a nearby roof. She clutches wildly at the roof beams exposed from the earlier onslaught of tearing winds and searing flames. But the figure floating in the air doesn't seem to hear her.

Flaming clouds cover the sky as red lightning crackles overhead. A black tornado rises, its vortex spawning from the heart of the hovering figure.

"It's happening…the gateway to Hell…it's opening!" she cries, not really to inform nonexistent others but merely to assure herself it isn't a bad dream.

The wind picks up, sucking at her dress and causing her to look away from the black light shining from the vortex of the tornado. Suddenly a shadow passes over her.

Hundreds of thousands of spirits pour from the heart of the tornado, their figures melt together and become like a living cloud that blocks out the red sun overhead.

They spill over and on her and she furiously tries to swipe them away to clear her vision, but she can't see through them and tries desperately to get to the edge of the roof.

When she does, her eyes behold the tornado dissipating and condensing into the figure of a man. He remains fixated in the sky and she can see a demonic aura materializing around him.

And Hell itself will open, drowning the very sky in spirits of the damned. With a final burst of the Devil's light, all of the Plain will be eradicated and Death itself will cease to exist.

_The verse from a book of mythology she read when she was young in death seemed to echo in the air around her. She struggled to recall the rest, praying she could before the figure released the hellish light._

Blessed witness flung into Purgatory will be all that stops the Devil's Advocate, while the escaped damned returned to their deserved fate will undo the three Planes.

__

She didn't wait. With a burst of energy, she jumped off the edge of the roof and flew, pushing against the emanation aura, towards the center of the tornado. She broke through the flaming air and shot into the vortex, the black-cloaked figure coming into focus.

"I can't sit by and watch this happen!" she calls to the demon. "If you can't control it, then I will_!"_

She plunged into the void that had appeared in his chest and a bright light broke the darkness. A deafening silence beat down on the entire city, and the only sound that broke through was one word from the devil hovering in the swiftly deepening sky.

"Rachel!"

****

And I'm calling all angels…  
And I'm calling all you angels…  
And I'm calling all angels…  
(I won't give up if you don't give up)  
And I'm calling all you angels…  
(I won't give up if you don't give up)  
Calling all you angels…  
(I won't give up if you don't give up)  
Calling all you angels…  
(I won't give up if you don't give up)  
Calling all you angels…


	8. So Far Away

A/N: "So Far Away" is copyright Staind. BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

****

This is my life,  
Its not what it was before.  
All these feelings I've shared,  
And these are my dreams,  
That I'd never lived before.  
Somebody shake me  
'Cause I,

I must be sleeping…

"Rachel!"

His voice echoed in the small attic room. Beetlejuice ground his fists into the floorboards, trying to keep back a new wave of tears. He remembered now…all that talk about a lock! Rachel had flung herself into the hellhole and blocked it up, becoming the new key to Purgatory.

He gasped, a spasm of pain enveloping his chest. He clawed at the brown sweater he wore and tore it off, looking in horror at the white burn mark he had always remembered having on his chest. In the past, it never really resembled any shape. But now it looked vaguely like a keyhole!

He looked down in horror as his alter ego explained.

"Oh, so you never noticed that the scar just _happened_ to appear after the last Reckoning? Lord God, but you're inept. I could throw up, had I a material body." He leaned against the wall, looking Beetlejuice over with a disgusted expression.

"But why didn't you want me to remember?"

"Because we'd have an episode, just like we're having right now. You're really pathetic when you cry, Beetlejuice. Like a little child. And I can't stand that. If you want to blubber like an adolescent, that's fine. But do it on the inside."

Beetlejuice was angered at this remark, but couldn't stop his heavy sighs. After all, what good would it do to fight himself? Rachel was gone and Lydia was gone and there was _nothing_ he could do. He sent Lydia back himself! As a matter of fact, he _put_ her there in the first place when he looked at it in a certain light.

**__**

Now that we're here,  
It's so far away,  
All the struggle we thought was in vain.  
All in the mistakes,  
One life contained,  
They all finally start to go away.  
Now that we're here its so far away,  
And I feel like I can face the day

I can forgive,  
And I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today…

He let out a small sob and was startled when his other side let out a sickened noise and walked over. Before Beetlejuice could react, the other man had slapped him, backhanded, across the face.

"If you can't stop crying like a heartbroken woman, then I'm going to have to do something about it. There's too much on the line for you to be slacking off in your duties."

Beetlejuice's head had cracked to the side, his neck almost popping from his head from the impact. His face held an astounded expression and he hadn't even turned his head back when he felt a yanking pain in him.

**__**

These are my words  
That I've never said before.  
I think I'm doing okay.  
And this is the smile  
That I've never shown before,  
Somebody shake me 'cause I,  
I must be sleeping…

Suddenly it felt like he was being compressed, shoved into himself. And before he could respond, he suddenly felt like he was on the inside of something, looking out.

__

Why does it feel so strange? He asked himself. _What…?_

He saw himself look in a mirror and was instantly answered. His body no longer had the middle-aged build and messy hair that he knew he retained. Instead, he looked like the younger alter ego of his! He had, in fact, been _possessed_ by himself!

"Surprised, you whining little child?" he heard the other side's voice speaking with an air of superiority. "You used to claim you could do this! Remember? In the old days?"

But even though Beetlejuice wanted to shake his head – _No, no! I didn't mean it! It was just a marketing trick!_ – he couldn't, because he no longer had control over what his body did. His other side had it.

"This is only temporary; don't worry. But I'm going to have to get rid of Lydia once and for all. If she could climb out of Purgatory once, she might not survive it again. But where there's a will, there's a way, and I can't leave it up to chance.

"I was always your better judgement, but for once you're going to let me act on it."

**__**

Now that we're here,  
It's so far away,  
All the struggle we thought was in vain.  
All in the mistakes,  
One life contained,  
They all finally start to go away.  
Now that we're here its so far away,  
And I feel like I can face the day

I can forgive,  
And I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today…

He took them out of the house and through the air. Beetlejuice went blind for a moment and when he could see again, they were standing in front of those horrible black gates that blocked off the only Hell he knew.

The ghost on the outside laughed. "Guess where we're going? And guess what I'm going to do to ensure that she'll never interfere with our eternity ever again?"

Beetlejuice drew into himself. No, even this other side of him wouldn't risk it! He wouldn't walk willingly into Purgatory! That was damnation, to the extreme! Before Lydia, no one had ever gone into that pit and had ever risen out!

**__**

I'm so afraid of waking…  
Please don't shake me…  
Afraid of waking…  
Please don't shake me…

But here he was, walking steadily towards the gates! He felt his arm stretching out to push open the heavy door and could see the infinite black void beyond. And for the first time in his memory, Beetlejuice felt true fear.

Beyond this point lay nothing. Utter vacuum. Take one more step, and they'd be lost forever in planes of emptiness and darkness. No light could touch this place, and all the inhabitants could hope for was unconsciousness that didn't differ at all from being awake.

And here he was, stepping out into infinity.

**__**

Now that we're here,  
It's so far away,  
All the struggle we thought was in vain.  
All in the mistakes,  
One life contained,  
They all finally start to go away.  
Now that we're here its so far away,  
And I feel like I can face the day

I can forgive,  
And I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today…


	9. Meant To Live

A/N: "Meant To Live" is copyright Switchfoot. BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

****

Fumbling his confidence

And wondering why the world has passed him by…

Hoping that he's bent for more than arguments

And failed attempts to fly, fly…

Darkness. Utter black. And Beetlejuice felt himself lost in it.

Suddenly he felt an awful ripping feeling at his very core. The pain was unbearable, but since he was inside himself, he couldn't open his mouth to scream in pain.

The pain tore open his chest and immediately he felt like he was swept up in energy that carried him on the razor edge of sanity. And then it was over.

He opened his eyes gingerly. And he was nothing but black…and white stripes, moving about in the void. That younger self's head, it was floating above the white stripes and suddenly the apparition had form, had a real shape in front of him.

And then he realized…_he was looking at himself_! Not just from another form of himself, but from without! He wasn't in his body anymore!

This was what Purgatory created, he remembered. No one but spirits could exist in Purgatory because of its very nature; its vacuum and the sheer strength of the void that tore apart all physical being into nothing more than the potential energy stored in its matter. And the potential energy was what the spirits were made of, given form by their own memories.

He recalled this all from some class he once took, probably the "Advanced Getting Acquainted with the Neitherworld" course Juno had forced him to take when he went to work for her again. Never had he dreamed he would be living it out!

**__**

We were meant to live for so much more.

Have we lost ourselves?

Somewhere we live inside,

Somewhere we live inside,

We were meant to live for so much more.

Have we lost ourselves?

Somewhere we live inside…

Beetlejuice looked at his body with amazement; unable to believe he was no longer connected to it. But he felt his material hand take the hand of his spiritual being and grasp it not tightly, but enough to have a grip in it. He recalled the way he had wiped Lydia's spirit's face; gently so as not to pass through it.

"Come on, Beetlejuice. You need to see this for it to have any effect," his other self said. At least, that was what Beetlejuice understood. Since there was nothing here for the sound to reverberate off of and bounce back, the body probably made no sound at all. But Beetlejuice understood it nonetheless.

They drifted for forever before his body stretched out a hand into space and traced the form of a circle. Amazingly, the circle lost some of the black color in it and actually lightened a shade! They went through and Beetlejuice reached out to touch the edge of the hole, only to feel a searing pain across his hand when he touched it.

_Where are we?_ He asked.

"In another part of Purgatory. There are endless universes here; one for each soul banished to this place. Normally the spirits will never meet, but if you can cut a hole through the dimensions, it can happen. Now let's look for your precious Lydia; this is supposed to be her reality."

Beetlejuice looked around, almost praying they _wouldn't_ find her for fear of what his other self would do to her. But eventually they caught sight of something pale and white floating off in the distance.

They flew over and Beetlejuice was released to hover stationary in the void. He watched as his body drifted to Lydia's form and touched her face.

He eyes opened all of a sudden, and with something close to joy she reached up to embrace him, not knowing the difference between her Beetlejuice and his other form.

This other form embraced her, but turned his head towards Beetlejuice's spirit and grinned demonically.

_Bastard!_ Beetlejuice screamed. _She doesn't know! Lydia, it's not _me 

But Lydia didn't seem to hear him. She was crying now, ecstatic that she had found him. And the body, while holding her close, traced another circle in the emptiness behind her.

_What are you doing? Why are you opening another portal?_

But the other self wasn't paying him any mind now; he was slowly tilting Lydia sideways so her "body" was perpendicular to his, and he moved just a bit so only her lower body was through the opening.

**__**

Dreaming about Providence

And whether mice or men have second tries…

Maybe we've been living with our eyes half open,

Maybe we're bent and broken, broken…

And it became horrifyingly clear to Beetlejuice in that second. His other self was going to close the window on Lydia. Her spirit, cut in half in two different dimensions, would immediately release all the potential energy she was made of, turning her into kinetic energy that would, in fact, dissipate and cease to be!

In short, Lydia was going "bye-bye".

_No!_ Beetlejuice tried to go to her, but he had lost all his power to move! He was stuck, unable to break free of his position.

Slowly he watched the circle of lightened black begin to shrink in size, and he struggles to pull himself into motion. _She's going to be undone! She's going to me undone and I have…to…_move 

Suddenly she shot forward with a blast, so quickly that he overshot and had to turn around. He felt his being weaken with every second he moved, but he didn't choose to notice.

Beetlejuice rammed into his body and sent the creature reeling through space. He grabbed Lydia's spirit and pulled it from the hole. He shook her frantically to wake her from her dreamlike state, but she wouldn't open her eyes.

_Lydia! Lydia, wake up! I'm _here_! I'm not in that body! Lydia, oh God Lydia, wake up!_

**__**

We were meant to live for so much more.

Have we lost ourselves?

Somewhere we live inside,

Somewhere we live inside,

We were meant to live for so much more.

Have we lost ourselves?

Somewhere we live inside…

Her eyes opened slightly and she looked at him. But her face showed no signs of recognition.

_Lydia?_

_Who are you?_

It's ME, babes! BJ! Ghost with the Most!

No, you're not. My Beetlejuice had green eyes and black stripes. He wasn't see through, like you.

That's right! The name! His mind almost snapped as he remembered.

_That's right, Lydia! Say my name two more times! Two more times and we can go home!_

Your name isn't Beetlejuice.

Yes! That's it! Just once more, babes, if you love life and if you love me like I know you do, say the word one more time 

I already told you, your name isn't Beetlej-

But her word was cut short by Beetlejuice being attacked by his own body. The wild man his other side had become was raging at him, sending them spinning through the void, locked in combat.

**__**

We want more than this world's got to offer…

We want more than this world's got to offer…

We want more than the wars of our fathers…

And everything inside screams for second life, yeah…

"Don't you realize she could undo the entire Neitherworld? The entire _afterlife_!" his alter ego bellowed.

_I don't care! Damn the afterlife! What good is it if she has to be undone for it to exist?_

"Go back to the way it was, before her! You can forget her and go back, and all our problems would be over!"

_One thing I learned about time in the last fifty years…_Beetlejuice stated coldly as he saw they were approaching the first hole his other side had made. He turned his material body towards the edge of the hole and felt the impact when the body's chest touched the edge and exploded in pain.

_It can stand still, but it can't move backwards._ Suddenly he felt his spirit sucked into the body, and now he could _feel_ that pain, could feel the burning, searing sensation of split atoms of nothingness against his bare skin through the torched jacket. He pushed himself away, scarring the palms of his hands.

He was moving towards Lydia now, away from the painful edge of the rift in space and towards her spirit, floating in space.

Her face brightened. _Oh, I knew you'd come to get me…_

Beetlejuice.

****

We were meant to live for so much more…

Have we lost ourselves?

We were meant to live for so much more…

Have we lost ourselves?

We were meant to live for so much more…

Have we lost ourselves?

We were meant to live…

We were meant to live…


	10. Rest In Peace

A/N: "Rest In Peace" is copyright Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Or whatever company produced/wrote the song). BJ belongs to Tim Burton. This story works better if you listen to the track on loop while reading.

****

I died  
So many years ago  
You can make me feel  
Like it isn't so  
And why you come to be with me  
I think I finally know

They were rushing through realities, ripped through Purgatory and through the Neitherworld, up into the glorious light that was the real world. They landed in Lydia's front yard at noon, and for a moment they sat there on her lawn, praising the sweet sun and all the light it gave off. They rolled in the grass, feeling its spiny texture and flew through the air, feeling the wind against their being.

Finally Beetlejuice remembered that Lydia was, in fact, still a spirit. He was startled to see the sun _through_ her, and he knew this wasn't right.

"My God, Lydia…how did you die?" he demanded of her, shaking her from her crystalline laughs.

She let out a sigh and her face fell. "Oh, Beej…I'm sorry. I'm just so _sorry_…"

He grasped her wrist and pulled her up into her room. When they reached it, he almost threw up from the sight.

Lydia's body lay, slumped against the bed, in a pool of her blood. It was still dripping from her wrist, so she hadn't been dead long.

_Time must have stood still here…or the Neitherworld moved too fast…_

He picked Lydia's spirit up and brought her close to the body. The stench of fresh blood was making him drunk; it was so pure and so corrupted that he felt genuinely sick. "Look, Lydia! This is what put you there!" he stated, forcing her to look at it.

She didn't seem to be listening. Reaching out, she made to touch the wound that still glistened with fresh blood. When she stroked the cut, she let out a gasp.

As Beetlejuice watched in astound, Lydia's spirit seemed to stretch and collapse in on itself, being sucked through the very wound in her body's cold skin! His mouth dropped open when her transparent self disappeared entirely and the cut scarred over, then fell away to reveal a line of light pink tissue covering what used to be the fatal wound.

He barely dared to hope. His heard leapt, however, when Lydia's eyelids fluttered open. She tried to turn her head, but hadn't the strength. He reached over and turned her face towards him.

"Lydia?"

"Yeah. Hey."

"Lord God…"

"It's great you're being religious for once, but I'm freezing," she said, halfheartedly laughing. He hurried to wrap her up in the comforter from her bed and he picked her up, putting her down on the soft bed.

"Thanks," Lydia whispered, shivering. The blood was beginning to reproduce in her marrow, and she was actually recovering.

Beetlejuice smiled softly for a minute, then thought twice and turned to go through the fractured pieces of the mirror.

"Where…where are you going?" she cried.

"I can't stay with you."

**__**

You're scared  
Ashamed of what you feel  
And you can't tell the ones you love  
You know they couldn't deal  
Whisper in a dead man's ear  
It doesn't make it real

"Why not?" Lydia was almost crying now. "After all that…you're just going to leave me…like before? Why?"

"Lydia, you can't understand. You just can't. Something happened that was and wasn't entirely my fault. Some of it and none of it was yours. I just can't explain."

**__**

That's great  
But I don't wanna play  
'Cause being with you touches me  
More than I can say  
And since I'm only dead to you  
I'm saying stay away and  
Let me rest in peace

"But-…"

He turned back to her and knelt before her bed, taking the chilled fingers that grasped the blanket closer to her shivering body.

"Lydia, you remember that horrible half of me that put you in Purgatory. I know you do. Don't you hate me for that? That was _me_ that put you in that horrible place!"

"But Beej, it was only part of you!"

"I know! That's the whole point! You don't understand; what he told me when he came out; about you getting sicker and sicker; it was all true. All of it. I know that if you keep visiting the Neitherworld, you're not going to pull a wild card and get to come back like this time. You're really going to _die_, Lydia.

"And the worst part is that you might skip the Limbo part altogether and just move on. You might not get put in the Neitherworld at all!" he finished, upset.

****

Let me rest in peace  
Let me get some sleep  
Let me take my love and bury it  
In a hole 6-foot deep  
I can lay my body down  
But I can't find my, sweet release  
So let me rest in peace

"But-…"

"Lydia, I know you think I'm being cold. This isn't like me at all; you know I wouldn't give a damn about your well being and keep dragging you through dimensions until you really do kick the bucket. But I _do_ care. And that's why I have to stop this."

**__**

You know,  
You got a willing slave  
You just love to play the thought  
That you might misbehave  
Till you do,  
I'm telling you  
Stop visiting my grave  
Let me rest in peace

"But why can't you just visit me _here_?" she tried through tears.

"God damn it, Lyds! Because when I'm _not_ here, you'd want to come through to the other side! It's like smoking; if you can't find a cigarette in the house, you have to go to the store to buy some. Well I'm gonna make you quit, Lydia."

She was silently crying now, sobbing into the comforter and sniffling.

****

I know I should go  
But I follow you like a man possessed  
There's a traitor here beneath my breast  
And it hurts me more than you've ever guessed  
If my heart could beat, it would break my chest  
But I can see you're unimpressed  
So leave me be

"And Lydia, if we didn't do this, that other half of me would come back. I can _feel_ him inside of me, seething. He's royally pissed at how things turned out, and who knows? Purgatory might just open up again, and I wouldn't want you around for that."

"B.J…."

"What?"

"I understand. But…is it true? Are you really the gateway to Purgatory?"

"I guess."

"Then how come when I went in, I didn't see you? I only saw…oh. _He_ was there."

"Yeah, I guess I just looked like a pair of gates to you."

She looked up, anger in her eyes. "I don't care! If you leave me, I swear to God that I'll keep coming over, calling you to me and everything else!"

He took her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Lydia! You have _got_ to leave me alone! If Purgatory opens again, it could mean that the entire Limbo Plane of reality could cease to be! Don't you understand?"

"No! Explain it to me so I can!"

He gave her an icy look and ripped open the tattered front of his suit, unbuttoning the maroon shirt beneath and pointing a finger to the keyhole-shaped scar on his chest. "Do you see? Another woman already sacrificed herself because of me to lock the gates! I don't want that to happen to you!"

She was staring at the scar, a tear halted on the edge of her pale cheeks. "Did it always have that gash through it?" she asked, absentmindedly.

He looked down and gasped. The scar looked now like it had a diagonal stripe through the keyhole, as if crossing it out. He recalled the blinding pain he felt when shoved up against the edge of the portal in Purgatory and reasoned that it must have developed after the wound healed.

"No. I got it from back there."

Suddenly a voice echoed in his head, sounding a lot like his other side's voice.

_It's cancelled out. Purgatory locked itself in._

"Locked itself in?" he whispered.

"What?" she asked.

"Purgatory…it _locked itself_…the edge of the hole, it must have sealed Purgatory from within…" Beetlejuice mused, staring into space, developing the idea faster and faster in his mind.

"So…?"

A wide, malicious grin spread across his face, and he jumped up to hug Lydia while she shrieked with terror.

"So it means I'm not the Gate anymore! It means it won't be my fault if it breaks open again! And Babes, it means you have _got_ to forgive me for _everything_ I just said!" he raved, laughing foolishly as she sat still, wide-eyed, trying to decide if he was completely insane or completely serious.

Deciding on a healthy combination of the two, she broke out in laughter and hugged him back, the tears still not yet dry.

"Oh Beej!" she cried.

**__**

And let me rest in peace  
Let me get some sleep  
Let me take my love and bury it  
Im a hole 6-foot deep  
I can lay my body down  
But I can't find my sweet release  
Let me rest in peace  
Why won't you  
Let me rest in peace?


End file.
